


an oldie, but a goodie

by leedeeloo



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Bombus Tron is mentioned, Fluff, Gen, whats sad fluff called
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 03:39:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9416963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leedeeloo/pseuds/leedeeloo
Summary: Sung finds something belonging to their former guitarist, and shows it to their current guitarist.





	

Sung called Phobos into his room from the kitchen, saying that it would only take a second, it was something cool. He had the master bedroom on the first floor, right across from the kitchen, window overlooking the backyard. Sung got dibs on it because his sleeping pattern involved staying up for two straight days and then sleeping where he fell for 16 hours. Stairs were a bit risky.

As Phobos came over, Sung shut off the overhead light leaving just his desk lamp on, giving the room a warm glow. He walked ahead of Phobos, to the small chest of drawers pushed under his window. It was just big enough for a record player.

“Check this out,” Sung said, picking up what was on top of the player, handing it to Phobos. It was the cardboard sleeve of a record, brightly coloured and lightly beaten up. The record was already in the player, and Sung dropped the needle down, letting it start playing in the middle of a song.

“I found it while I was cleaning. It’s one of Bombus’, I think he left it behind.”

Sung was entranced by the music, watching the record spin. It was light and energetic, and it gave Phobos this twinge of sadness in his chest. He stood beside Sung, flipping the sleeve over, looking at the track list but not really reading it. His eyes went up, to the window, looking out on the dark yard. The lamp was bright enough that all he could really see was their reflections, the vague shapes of plants and the fence in the distance.

He kept holding the sleeve, trying not to squeeze or damage it further. The music kept going on, cheery, upbeat, and swing-y: something Bombus surely loved. Phobos couldn’t hold it anymore, had to get it out of his hands. He hastily wedged the sleeve between the player and the wall, bending it a little from the sil pushing against it.

There was a slow shift as Sung noticed Phobos’ mood. He put an arm around the guitarist’s shoulders, squeezed him close, kept his hand firm. They stayed quiet for a minute, just watching outside, the spinning of the record in their peripherals

“Yeah,” Sung said, “I miss him too.”

**Author's Note:**

> ive been thinking about this lil scene for like months now and just finally wrote it.  
> ALSO im not referencing an actual album. if you know something that matches my descriptions, then you can go ahead and imagine it playing.


End file.
